


wave goodbye again

by birdlord5000



Category: Blaseball (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, F/F, me juggling the lore of multiple teams that i'm not a part of, misc background Fridays players, s12 elections
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 23:21:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29990385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdlord5000/pseuds/birdlord5000
Summary: Nagomi's used to being shuffled around. She goes into every election prepared to leave again. What she didn't prepare for was this.(Nagomi Mcdaniel retreats into the shadows)
Relationships: Nagomi Mcdaniel/York Silk's Mom
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	wave goodbye again

When she wakes up on the morning before the election, Nagomi packs her bag with the last few essentials-- toothbrush, toothpaste, a snack for the plane ride. When she lived in Baltimore she could afford to sleep in a bit, but election results are announced at 10 am Hawai’i time, and the Fridays are watching together from the field. If they get any blessings, it will be a celebration. If it’s something else, well, going away parties are always a nice gesture. She usually doesn’t stick around long enough to go to them, but it’s the thought that counts.

In bed, her wife stirs, blinking away the last remnants of sleep. Nagomi will commit this to memory, the patterns the light makes through the blinds and the exact angle her hair sticks up in the back.

“Mcdaniel,” she says, stern through her sleepiness.

“Silk,” Nagomi responds.

“You weren’t going to leave without saying goodbye to me, were you?”

“Of course not.” Nagomi sits down on the bed and kisses her wife’s forehead, then her mouth.

“I have morning breath,” she protests.

“I don’t care.” She cares a little bit, but not enough to make her stop.

The two of them sit side by side, drinking in the morning. It’s a minute before either of them speaks again.

“There’s always a chance that you don’t have to go anywhere.” 

Nagomi sighs. She picks a stray bit of dirt from underneath her fingernail. “I know,” she says, “But being prepared makes it hurt less if it does happen.”

“If you knew you had to go, but you got to choose where, what team do you think you would pick?” her wife asks.

“Canada, probably. I could spend time with York again. Or I could swap with him and send him back here to you.” They don’t talk about York much outside of his frequent calls and visits. There’s a lingering regret deep in Nagomi’s stomach every time she remembers that she was the one to get him into blaseball to begin with.

“York’s practically an adult now, you don’t need to send him home to see his mother,” his mother replies. “As much as I miss seeing him outside of siestas, he’s made friends up there. Plus, I would rather just have both of you.”

“The Crabs, then.” Nagomi taps the chitinous plating that still runs up her arm. “It would be nice to see them all after so long. I’ll probably end up visiting no matter where I end up, just to see what they did with the Crabitat.”

The two of them laugh at that. They don’t say much else. Eventually Nagomi gets up, digs a pair of shoes from the back of the closet, and hangs them from her neck by the laces.

“I love you,” she says as she crosses the threshold.

“I love you too.” Her wife cups her face and kisses her one last time. “Stay safe.”

Nagomi has to laugh at that one. “I’ll try.”

-

It’s warm, and the sun is high in the sky, but there’s already a bonfire going when she gets to the beach. There are a few chairs scattered around, but most people are sitting in the sand. Juice is deep in conversation with the new guy, Bates. At the edge of the surf, Dreamy is showing Jaylen how to dig shells up with her feet. There’s a genuine smile on the pitcher’s face that Nagomi hasn’t seen in a while.

“Boss is saying something!” Christian Combs calls from next to the portable radio. “Election’s starting soon!”

Nagomi reaches the radio just as the Commissioner finishes talking about the Tigers evolving. Good for them, she thinks even as Ren gets sent to the shadows. 

_ “The Flippers mod is entrusted to Jacob Winner,” _ the radio announces, just as flippers appear on Jacob’s feet. He cheers and tries to do a backflip, only to trip over himself and fall flat in the sand.

_ “Alyssa Harrell is Infused.” _ Out of the corner of her eye, the form that is not Alyssa shimmers. She looks up and smiles.

Fridays are done. She can take a breath.

But before she can even let it out, Parker is saying that the Garages have chosen Nagomi Mcdaniel for the plunder and everyone is looking at her in sympathy, the way they always do when she has to go. 

Seattle. She can deal with Seattle. She’s never been very musically inclined, but she’ll manage. 

She only half-listens to the rest of the announcements while Christian brings her a drink. The Firefighters get an infusion for poor Butt, and Parker awkwardly clears his throat. Knight gets sent to the Spies, that will be tough on the Lovers. 

“ _... Alaynabella Hollywood is sent to the shadows.”  _ That’s a shame. If nothing else, Layna was fun at parties.

“ _ The Flowers targeted Nagomi Mcdaniel for an exchange,”  _ Parker hesitates.  _ “opting to send back Alaynabella Hollywood.” _

The world around her goes black, and Nagomi can’t even think to scream.

-

The first thing she realizes as her eyes start to adjust is that the shadows are a place. This is not an earth-shattering revelation, but it surprises her all the same. 

When she had been shelled, it was like being cocooned in nothingness. The walls were smooth and the air was stale and it was so quiet that she couldn’t even hear herself breathing. This time the ground beneath her is cool and soft. She takes a deep breath and the air smells like dirt. 

Her second realization is that the shadows are not pitch-black. This makes sense, she supposes. After all, every shadow needs a light source to be cast. The light here is the pale gray of just before sunrise.

She tries to sit up and gets a face full of leaves, and that’s when she comes to realization number three: she is lying underneath a bush.

When she wiggles her way out, it’s into one of the most lush forests she’s ever seen. Dozens of species of trees are interspersed with bushes and flowers and moss as high as her ankles. Between the trunks, Nagomi thinks she can see a blaseball diamond. 

Alaynabella. The Flowers. She must be somewhere deep in the Boston Garden right now, beyond where the outfield blends into wilderness. And if she looks hard enough, she can see people moving around on the field. 

Nagomi fights her way through the trees. If she can just talk to them, she can make sure everyone knows that she’s okay. It won’t be like the shell. She won’t make them worry about her again.

As she breaks through the woods and into the waist-high grass, the sun catches her straight in the eyes, and she blinks. When she opens her eyes, she’s back under the trees. She steps forward again, slower this time, and her body is pulled backwards as soon as her foot enters the sunlight.

Right. Shadows. There was a reason why they were called that.

She picks up a rock from the ground and throws it as hard as she can towards the diamond. It sinks uselessly into the dandelions and daisies. None of the Flowers even turn around.

Nagomi is so busy trying not to scream that she almost doesn’t notice the swarm of insects that rises from the grass until they’ve surrounded her.

“Sorry,” she says

_ Bzzz _ , say the insects.

“I hope I didn’t hurt you,” she says

_ Bzzz, _ they say again, but lower this time. The swarm flies past her and pauses, as if waiting for her to catch up.

“Do you want me to follow you?” she asks.

_ Bzzz _ . If it’s possible for insects to sound sarcastic, they do. They also don’t wait before weaving farther into the forest, leaving Nagomi to follow as best she can without tripping over a bush.

It’s almost evening by the time they make it to the edge of the clearing that Nagomi recognizes as the Memorial Bat Forest. She had been there once before with the Crabs to place a plaque and some crabgrass for Combs after they were incinerated. She can see it between a couple of flourishing bat trees now. The insects hover over the plaque and buzz. 

“You wanted me to see the forest, is that it? You know I came here before with the Crabs?”

_ Bzzz _ . The insects circle around the plaque impatiently.

“Combs…?” Nagomi takes a step forward. “Oh gods, you’re right. The Crabs will come to visit them.”

The insects all bob in unison, as if they’re nodding. Nagomi digs around in her pockets. There’s the sharpie that she always keeps with her in case she’s approached by a fan, and in the back pocket of her shorts there’s a crumpled receipt from the grocery store. She flattens it out as best she can on the edge of the plaque, mentally apologizing to Combs. 

__ _ Hi Crabs. I’m okay, just in the shadows, _ she writes,  _ tell the Fridays that I’m fine. Tell York and his mom that I love them. -Nagomi. _

She folds the note into a tight square and tucks it under a rock on Combs’s plaque so it doesn’t fly away.

“What now?” she turns to ask the insects for their opinion, but the air around her is empty. Figures.

Nagomi makes her way back into the forest proper. She sits down in the shade of a large oak tree and closes her eyes. There is nothing more for her to do. She might as well take a nap.

**Author's Note:**

> *bends over backwards to avoid giving York's mom a name*


End file.
